


The Cliff's Edge and a Shaky Breath

by Delightful_I_Am



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Healing, Post-Season/Series 03B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8124727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delightful_I_Am/pseuds/Delightful_I_Am
Summary: “Stars should not be seen alone. That's why there are so many. Two people should stand together and look at them. One person alone will surely miss the good ones.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this quote from Dry by Augusten Burroughs and it got me thinking. It didn't quite turn out the way I was expecting when I started it, but oh boy, am I pleased with where it ended up.

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. He finds his feet taking him through the forest, leading him up, up, up. He sits on a cliff’s edge and breathes; a heaving, jagged sound turning to desperate sobbing as he curls in on himself, trying to hold himself together. It’s as he lies on the ground, shoulders hunched tight, that he notices the stars. Bright bursts of light across the sky, light speckles in the dark. His breathing slows as he watches, wide-eyed, the sight of so much infinity stretching above him. He could swear he feels the earth moving, rotating under and around and _through_  him. He watches until the faint streaks of dawn burst from the horizon, the soft light cascading through the clouds.

The second time it happens, he seeks it out. His feet taking that same path up, up, up. He sits on the cliff’s edge and breathes; waiting for the ache in his chest to ease, eyes strained toward the sky. He blinks back tears, huddled on the ground, ragged breaths tearing themselves from his chest as the enormity of the sky presses down on him. He stands on shaking legs and screams, screams to deafen the voices clawing at him; to stop the nightmares that won’t stop. He screams out at the stars until his voice is a whisper. Then he screams in his mind until the faint streaks of dawn caress his skin, finding him still and calm.

The third time it happens, he’s not alone. His feet taking him the now familiar route up, up, up. He sits on the cliff’s edge and breathes; gasping around the torn edges of himself, trying to fight back to the surface. The cosmos watches over him, even as a pair of green eyes looks on, quiet and troubled. The green eyes watch as he screams at the part of himself that no longer exists; he screams at the part of himself that is not himself. The green eyes watch him until the faint streaks of dawn trickle down with the light mist that envelops the town.

The eighth time it happens, he tells Derek everything. His feet, no longer alone on the path that feels of home, taking him up, up, up. He sits on the cliff’s edge and breathes; Derek waits, quiet, calm, and _there_ while he tries to wrangle his mind into place. He looks at the stars and talks, eyes never leaving the stunning swathe of brilliance above them, talks of the Nogitsune and how he still feels it inside of him. Those green eyes never leave his face, listening intently while he bares his soul to the stars. He talks until his mouth runs dry and his words run out. He talks until the faint streaks of dawn bloom against his eyelids, bathing him in the new day.

The twelfth time it happens, Derek tells him everything. His feet, less weary with someone beside him, taking him up, up, up. He sits on the cliff’s edge and breathes; calmer than he has been in months as he waits for Derek to speak. His eyes stay trained on the sky, hands clasped tight in his lap as Derek tells him about the fire, and about how he failed Boyd and Erica, and Allison. The green eyes stare at the ground, unable to look at his face, tears falling softly on the dirt, reflecting the stars above them. Derek talks until he breaks, lifting his gaze to the heavens and crying out his pain. He listens until the faint streaks of dawn erupt in a blaze of colour, lending its strength to the boy and the wolf.

The last time it happens, it’s a beginning. His feet, accompanied by the green-eyed wolf, taking him along the well-worn trail up, up, up. They sit on the cliff’s edge and breathe; silent breaths synchronised, holding each other together at the seams. They gaze at the stars, eyes wide in awe at the majesty of the universe around them. They hold hands, gentle fingers clasped together, pointing out the constellations in quiet voices. The green eyes gaze at his face, waiting for his own amber whiskey eyes to meet them. Soft kisses on softer skin, whispers at ears and on necks and lips, promises for a better tomorrow. They hold hands and stare into each others eyes until the stars slip away and the faint streaks of dawn peek down at them, watching them start again.


End file.
